


Blink

by noobieninja



Category: Sanders Sides
Genre: Angst, Dark Side Virgil, Implied Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 08:07:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14588679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noobieninja/pseuds/noobieninja
Summary: Blink, and it's gone.(Virgil gets outed as a Dark Side, and doesn't take it well.)





	Blink

**Author's Note:**

> if this gets a good response, i might continue with this!

Blink, and it's gone. That feeling of relief, of security, of safety, of home, of belonging. It collapses out from under your feet, and suddenly you're just falling.

"Well, you know what Virgil _is_ , don't you?" Roman's voice is tinted with disdain. Virgil's proverbial blood boils at that damn tone, and if they could touch each other he'd tackle that faux prince to the ground.

"No...?" Thomas is upticked, hoping it's not what he thinks, hoping he's got something wrong.

The circles under Virgil's eyes darken, and he can feel it. Can feel himself sinking into that pitch black pit of nausea and shivers and pain. "Don't listen to them, Thomas," he says, he pleads, his voice a bassy rumble.

"Virgil?" Thomas' eyebrows furrow, and Virgil can only clasp his hands over his ears, hoping to block the sounds out for Thomas, too.

"He's a Dark Side, Thomas," Logan says, quiet and solemn.

Virgil deflates, shrinks, tries to disappear into the staircase.

"He's obviously not one of us, Thomas. Didn't you notice the differences?"

The acid bubbles in his throat, and he wants to scream and shove everyone away, end this conversation, but he doesn't have as strong a hold on Thomas' mind these days. The best he can do is shut the lights off and let a thunderclap roll from his throat.

Forget it. Everything is broken now, there's no use in trying to fix it.

Maybe _leaning in_ is the best option.

"Of course I'm different. I'll stay in my lane from here on out, how about that?"

"Virgil, c'mon now--" Patton starts, but Virgil is already gone.

He sits on his knees in the dark, smoky, upside down living room. He can see a vague reflection of the scene on the other side, but he doesn't want to watch right now. He shuts his eyes, shame welling up in his chest.

Two hands descend on his shoulders, a sickening familiarity. One squeezing his shoulder and rubbing it almost encouragingly, the other a militaristic iron grip on him.

"It's _so_ good to have you back, Virgil," a half-forked tongue hisses into the darkness.

"You've been slacking," the other says, the words clipped and short. "No more playing at friends."

Virgil sighs, standing up. He has to remember his place. He stands up, pulling his hood over his head.

"Yeah," he says, feeling fear trickling down Thomas' spine. "My bad."


End file.
